


I Would Give The World To You

by mvernet



Series: A Great Big War [2]
Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: A Great Big World song This Is The New Year, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Discussion of Same-Sex Marriage, Kissing, M/M, Native American/First Nations Legends & Lore, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Slash Hogan's Heroes, Sequel to I Will Hear Your Heart, Slash Hogan's Heroes, Songfic, Two Spirits, lovelovelove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: The slash sequel to "I Will Hear Your Heart"Carter has a setback as he recovers from the injuries he suffered during a cave in. Newkirk has to face his true feelings for his best mate when he fears the worst.Dedicated to Reading Fanfic 4.22.00, thanks for your encouragement and suggestions!





	I Would Give The World To You

**Author's Note:**

> I had a request for a slash sequel to I Will Hear Your Heart, and this is it. I enjoy reading and writing slash and gen. As long as the characters speak to my heart, I’m a happy camper. Hogan’s Heroes does not go gently into that slashy night, but I have endeavored to help it along. Heed the warnings! This is a mostly angsty bromance, pre-slash, non explicit fic. If you don’t like the idea of slash Hogan’s Heroes, I totally get it, so don’t read it… or give it a try.
> 
> Listen on Youtube This Is The New Year performed by A Great Big World  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27R_goWiAAU
> 
> Watch John Banner and Werner Klemperer sing Stille Nacht on Youtube (with a little surprise)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HSNxomFN-Y

Another year you made a promise  
Another chance to turn it all around  
And do not save this for tomorrow  
Embrace the past and you can live for now  
And I will give the world to you

~~~HH~~~

New Year’s Day found Corporal Peter Newkirk sitting next to the bunk of his best mate, Sergeant Andrew Carter, chatting about the Christmas truce that had just passed.

“We ‘ad a good ‘oliday, doncha think, mate? I mean as good as it can get in a bloomin’ POW camp. Where LeBeau got a goose and a plum puddin’ from is beyond me. And didn’t Schultzy and the other guards sound marvelous when they sang us Stille Nacht. Made me kinda misty, ya know?”

Newkirk took Carter’s hand and frowned at the unhealthy heat warming his own cold fingers. “Then you whispered to me, ‘Boy, ain’t it somethin’ that a babe born 2000 years ago can stop a war, if only for a day? Too bad it can’t be Christmas every day.’”

Newkirk placed Carter’s hand back under his covers and tucked him in carefully so that the frigid air of a fresh January could not touch him. He began to stroke Carter’s brow trying in vain to brush away the fever that held his best mate ransom. He knew he would pay any price to have this fair haired man well again. Newkirk leaned in and whispered.

“I think that’s when I first started to think of us as more than friends, Andrew. I’ve ‘ad some of these thoughts before, just in passin’. That’s my secret to keep and no one else's business. Ain’t never thought about actin’ on my fantasies before. I’d been so lonely, till I met you, ya crazy Yank. Since then, every day's been like Christmas as long as I could see you smile.”

Carter stirred and mumbled a “Peter. I can’t… see you. You ‘right?” It was the same words and frightened tone every time the fever released Carter from its clutches enough to allow him to speak. Newkirk knew he was back in the dark of the cave in.

“Shhhhh, Andrew. I’m right as rain. Won’t leave you alone, I swear. Remember your promise to me. When this war is done I will ‘ear your ‘eart beating and you will ‘ear mine. I ‘old you to that.”

It was just after the Christmas Truce when an accidental allied bombing raid took out part of the tunnel system under Stalag Thirteen. The ill fated mission, arranged by none other than Colonel Crittenden, had been aborted by the outraged bomber pilot once he figured out the coordinates were wrong, but not before a lone bomb wreaked havoc on the camp.

Carter and Newkirk had been caught in a cave in down in Newkirk’s sewing nook. Carter had been partially buried in the rubble and dirt. The hemming stool on which Carter had been standing while Newkirk sewed the finishing touches into a General’s overcoat, was crushed in the debris, sending a jagged metal brace into Carter’s leg.

Sergeant Scotty Wilson, the camp medic, was able to save Carter’s leg, but dust and dirt had settled in Carter’s wound while they awaited rescue. Although Wilson did his best to clean the injury and started penicillin as soon as possible, Carter was facing the New Year fighting the fever from the inevitable infection in his leg.

Newkirk wrung out a washcloth in the bowl of tepid water Wilson had left for him. He folded the cloth with care and placed it on Carter’s forehead. This was the first time Newkirk had been totally alone with his friend. Usually Wilson was glued to his side. But Hogan had ordered the medic to to get some food and rest. Almost the whole camp was in the mess hall having a halfway decent breakfast for a change in celebration of the New Year. Klink had said it was a victory celebration of what had to be the final year of the war and had allowed real eggs and pork sausages to be served. One egg and one link per prisoner.

“You’re not really missin’ anything, Andrew. I made sure Louis had a big fat ham for our New Year’s feast. You need to wake up, love, you don’t want to miss that.”

Newkirk sighed. Wilson had said the turning point would come soon. The fever had raged relentlessly against Carter’s slim body. Wilson had warned that either the fever would break or their favorite Technical Sergeant would become another casualty of this never ending war.

Carter’a face scrunched up into a frown. He started to shiver slightly and sweat began to bead at his neck. “Ham… sounds good, mama. Don’t… don’t let cousin Angry have mine. I’m gettin’ up. I’m gettin’ up.”

Newkirk’s heart leapt to his throat. He only had to place a light hand on Carter’s chest to keep the weakened man from moving. Newkirk’s hand reached for his friend’s brow desperate to feel the prayed for change. Carter felt damp and cool to his touch.

“Good, boy. Now that’s the ticket! Please, Andrew open them baby blues.” 

Carter moaned and turned his head towards Newkirk’s voice. He blinked his heavy lids a few times. Carter opened his eyes as far as he could and smiled. His voice was raspy and full of concern. “There you are, Peter. I couldn’t find you in the dark, buddy. Where’d ya go? You ’k?”

Newkirk made a sound between a chuckle and a cry. “Ya daft git! I’ve been right here the whole time. Don’t you ever go where I can’t follow again. Blimey! It’s about time you woke up. Lazy bones.”

Carter was still smiling sheepishly at his best pal. “Sorry, Peter. Hey, what day is it anyway? I kinda lost track.”

Newkirk smiled and took a deep breath. “Happy New Year, Andrew.” He cradled Carter’s face in his palms and leaned in for a kiss. His skin was blessedly cool and his mouth warm like honeyed tea. He took his time, allowing the stolen moment to etch itself into his memory in case it might be his last moment on earth.

Newkirk broke the kiss and anxiously looked into Carter’s eyes, waiting for his world to explode. Carter’s eyes were open wide.

“Wow, Peter. You Londoners sure know how to bring in the new year. That was… that was… nice.”

“You think so, love?” Newkirk stroked Carter’s cheek with his thumb.

“Well, yeah. I mean I haven’t had any experience with ummm… British kisses but that was really… nice. I guess you were super worried, huh. Is that why you kissed me? Did you think I was gonna die or somethin’?” Carter suddenly stiffened in fear and reached for his leg. “Did… did Scotty have to take my…”

Newkirk reacted immediately the panic in Carter’s voice. “Oh, no. No, love. You’re fine. Just ‘ad a bit of fever is all. But, yeah. You came too close to dyin’ for me to ‘andle. I decided life is too short for ‘oldin’ back, Andrew. I had to let you know, even if I was takin’ a big chance.”

“Huh? Let me know what?”

Newkirk shook his head and smiled. “‘old that question a tick. Lay back, love. Let me fix your blankets. There.” Newkirk fussed with Carter’s blankets, making sure his injured leg was properly supported by pillows. 

Carter sighed in contentment as his eyelids went to half-mast. “Let me know what, Peter? Tell me.”

“That I love you, Andrew. So much. I’d give the world to you, if I could.”

Carter smiled and then yawned, closing his eyes. “The world, huh? I’ll take it. I love you too. You’re the bestest pal I ever had, Peter.”

Newkirk shook his head at the now sleeping man. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You don’t ‘ave a bloody clue what I’m tellin’ you, do you baby. But you still gave me your love so freely. You are a marvel, Andrew. This is gonna be a long war.”

Hogan burst through the door a moment later followed closely by Wilson and the rest of the men of barracks two. “How’s our boy, Newkirk?” Hogan said with concern as Wilson headed for Carter’s bunk.

“Fever broke.” Newkirk couldn’t help but grin at the relieved, happy chatter that filled the barracks at the news. 

~~~HH~~~

Speak louder than the words before you  
And give them meaning no one else has found  
The role we play is so important  
We are the voices of the underground  
And I would give the world to you

~~~HH~~~

Newkirk was casually searching for Carter. He was supposed to be taking it easy and staying warm, but he wasn’t in his usual haunts. He joined LeBeau who stood outside barracks two stomping his feet in the snow. His face was turned towards the brilliant blue sky to soak up the weak rays of the winter sun. He was casually watching an impromptu game of football and trying to understand the action.

“What are those crazy Yanks doing out in this weather playin’ ball?” Newkirk lit up a cigarette and offered one to LeBeau, but LeBeau smiled and refused with a wave of his gloved hand. 

“Kinch said this game was traditionally played in the winter snow. At least in the northernmost states of the Americas. Like North Dakota and Detroit.”

Newkirk nodded his understanding. “Oh, so Detroit is a northern state too. That makes sense I guess.”

Lebeau jutted his chin towards a big man who currently had the ball and was running towards the goal line. LeBeau had the air of an expert as he explained the game to Newkirk. “You see, Vanderman from Maine has the ball, he is going to try and make a homerun. The other men will try to huddle him and take the ball back to their bullpen.”

Newkirk took a long drag on his cigarette, held it, then aimed the smoke away from LeBeau’s smiling face as he exhaled. “Oh, I see. I never understood the point of this game before. Thanks, mate. You ever play?”

LeBeau snickered, “Moi? The only bols I played was in summer at my Uncle Jean Claude’s house with several glasses of Dubonnet and a lovely lawn chair in the shade to relax in between throws.”

Newkirk just smiled. He hardly ever understood his little French friend when he talked of home, but he enjoyed listening to him. Just then, Newkirk heard a shrill whistle and coughed as he gasped.

“What the bloody ‘ell is Carter doin’ out in the cold air playin’ this rough game?”

Newkirk threw away his cigarette and stamped over to where Carter, leaning heavily on a makeshift broomstick cane, was waving his hand and arguing with Vanderman who towered over him trying his best to look intimidating.

Newkirk stepped fearlessly between Carter and the mountain man from Maine and gave Vanderman a push.

“Back off, Bluto or that football will be so far up your arse you’ll never make a ‘omerun again.”

Carter frowned. “What the heck’s wrong with you Newkirk? I’m the Official. We were just discussing my last call.”

Vanderman pushed towards Carter. “You blind as well as crippled, Carter? I didn’t lose control of the ball for a second!”

“You bloody bastard!” Newkirk pulled back his fist determined to slug the guy. 

Kinch grabbed Vanderman and Carter dropped his broomstick and caught Newkirk’s arm, throwing himself off balance. He crashed to the hard packed ground and took Newkirk with him.

Carter cried out, “Owwww! Dammit Newkirk! Get offa me! I don’t need your help!” 

Newkirk rolled off of Carter as quick as he could. panicked that he had caused his best mate more pain, he reached out to touch his cheek. “Oh! Blimey, Andrew! I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Carter shook off Newkirk’s hand and struggled up onto his elbows. He sat dejectedly on the frozen ground and turned pleading eyes towards Kinch who instantly saw that Carter wanted to save face in front of the guys. With a threatening growl, Kinch pushed Vanderman into the arms of his teammates and took control.

“Game’s called on account of too much stupid. We’ll finish up tomorrow.” As the guys grumbled and wandered off, Kinch discreetly helped Carter up and steadied him with his big arms. LeBeau handed him his cane and aviator’s hat. Carter kept his head down and brushed snow off his hat with as much concentration as he usually saved for his bomb making.

Carter mumbled a, “Thanks, fellas,” and limped towards the barracks. Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch watched him go wanting to ease his pain, but feeling helpless to do so.

LeBeau smacked Newkirk’s arm. “Why did you do that to him? He was having fun for a change.”

Kinch joined in. “Yeah, what gives with the blue knight routine, Newkirk? He’s not some damsel in distress. He can handle himself. I finally got him agree to get some fresh air and to be the field judge for the game and you had to embarrass him. He’ll never be the Official for us now. Besides, you really think I woulda let that moose Vanderman lay a hand on our boy? I’m insulted.”

Newkirk wiped a hand over his face. In his mind he had seen the sweet, vulnerable man he loved being attacked. But in truth Carter was strong and doing all he could to recover so he could resume going on missions. And Andrew Carter still didn’t have a clue that friendship had turned to love for one frustrated Brit.

LeBeau has lapsed into aggravated French then just as quickly switched to English. “You know the Colonel has a mission planned for tomorrow night. We are to blow up the Adolph Hitler bridge, again. Carter was so excited when he figured out a way to put explosives right into the German’s reconstruction materials without them knowing about it. A self-blowing bridge he called it. Now it is time to test out his invention and he cannot take part in the mission because of his wound. He is most upset about it.”

Kinch crossed his arms and frowned. “I thought a football game would help raise his spirits.”

Newkirk sighed deeply. “I’ll go talk to ‘im. I’ll ask him about detonating his bridge bomb again. That’ll get ‘im excited and talkin’ a mile a minute in no time.”

~~~HH~~~

Newkirk found Carter in his lab, sitting on a stool at his workbench checking the two “catalyst bombs” as he called them, for the hundredth time. His head was bowed, studying the end of some small wire that had significance only to Carter. He was so engrossed in his work he didn’t hear Newkirk come down the ladder and stand at the entrance of his private domain. 

Newkirk couldn’t help but smile as he leaned against the makeshift doorway and just took in the sight of his love, mostly recovered and deep into his work. Newkirk knew Carter wasn’t the handsomest man in the camp. But there was something about Carter’s open expression and love of life that held Newkirk’s heart captive. Those blue eyes of his could laugh away fear or show sincere empathy for a friend. But Newkirk knew they could also burn with fierce protectiveness and shine with an inner strength if someone needed his help. 

In order not to startle his mate, not ever a good thing to do when Carter was working, Newkirk shuffled his feet and quietly called, “Andrew?”

Carter looked up and gave Newkirk half a smile. “Hey, Peter. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was just kinda embarrassed, fallin’ down on my butt in front of the whole camp.”

“I’m sorry I interfered. I guess it’s just hard to give up brother-henning you, mate. You gave me quite a fright when I almost lost you.”

Carter really smiled and all was right with the world again. “I’m okay now, Peter. The leg is almost as good as new. As a matter of fact, I’m going to go on the mission tomorrow night. I know I can keep up.”

Newkirk smirked at the blatant lie. Carter was such a kid sometimes. “Oh, I see. All betta are we? And the Gov’nor gave his go ahead on this plan?”

“Well, not exactly. Actually he said he’d chain me to my bunk if I tried to follow you guys. But I thought if you could ask him…” Carter came really close to batting his eyelashes at his friend. Newkirk felt his mouth go dry at the sight.

“Tone down those big puppy dog eyes, Andrew. You know I’m a sucker for them. You ain’t playin’ fair. And you know you ain’t in no condition to run around the countryside blowin’ up bloomin’ bridges.”

“But you don’t understand, buddy. I need to go and set the catalyst bombs. I’ve never done this before. Somethin’ might go wrong. I’d couldn’t stand it if you… or one of the guys got hurt because of my invention. This is risky stuff. The mortar used to rebuild the bridge is laced with gallons of a sort of enhanced gunpowder I concocted. In theory all I have to do is set off two small, tidy charges at each side of the bridge and a chain reaction will take down the whole structure. You can set the charges in less than a minute. Minimal exposure, maximum kapow!”

Newkirk nodded. It seemed simple enough. “You’re bloody brilliant, you know that Andrew?”

Carter hung his head at the praise. “What if I’m wrong, Peter? Do you see why I have to be there?”

“No, I don’t. We’ve all been around bombs before. This is so simple even Schultzy could do it, if he ever deigned to come to over to our side. If the bridge doesn’t blow, well, we’ll try it again the old fashioned way. It’ll be fine, Andrew. I’d rather have you here keepin’ the home fires burnin’ than draggin’ your arse away from a pile of burnin’ rubble ‘cause your leg gives out.”

Carter carefully stood and walked the few feet over to Newkirk to look him the eye. “Buddy, ya gotta understand what I’m saying. This is the most important job I can do. I can’t think of anything more important. We are the voices of the underground. And my voice is my bombs. A big loud destructive voice that leaves no doubt as to how I feel about bullies that threaten my home and my friends. I don’t really delight in destruction, Peter. But to know that I have a voice in bringing down hate and prejudice makes me proud of my bomb making.”

Newkirk had placed his hands on Carter’s waist to steady him as he drew near. Carter’s hands came up and grasped Newkirk’s forearms as he spoke of his passion. Carter leaned in closer.

“When I was sick you said you’d give the world to me.”

Newkirk swallowed nervously. “You remember that?”

Carter moved even closer. “‘Course I do. I said I’d take it, didn’t I?”

Newkirk smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, guess you did at that.”

“Peter, I’d give the world to go on this mission.”

“This is soundin’ like blackmail to me, mate. I told you I want you safe.”

“We’re smack dab in the middle of a war! I’m never going to be safe and neither are you.”

“You’re not goin’! I won’t let you put yourself in danger, not when you’re hurt.”

Carter forcefully pushed away and returned to his stool. “I thought you would understand. That’s what best friends do. Understand.”

Newkirk rounded on him, his emotions showing in his red face and blazing eyes. “It’s you who doesn’t understand. I’m in love with you! You are more than a best mate to me. I can’t see you hurt again! I won’t!”

Newkirk stormed away and climbed out of the tunnel.

Carter watched him go, a puzzled frown overtook his pale face. 

“You’re in love with me?”

~~~HH~~~

Newkirk started up a poker game to calm his frazzled nerves. He may have just lost the most important person in his miserable life. He knew what being exposed as a man-lover would do to him. He’d watched carefully as others before him declared their forbidden love only to end up in hospital or left behind in a cruel, lonely world where rumors spread like a deadly disease through a school, an army post or a POW camp, leaving nothing but sorrow behind.

He trusted his friends with his life, but not his secret. LeBeau might have guessed, and Newkirk was comfortable with that. The Frenchman was a closet romantic and looked at all amour as an expression of a passion for life. Kinch was no stranger to prejudice and would be his reasonable self if he knew. The Colonel was a man of the world and a leader of men. He would be fair and discrete. But Carter was different. A strange bloke who saw things from an unusual angle. Surely the young man would keep his secret. He was in a secret underground unit after all. Then again Carter had a wholesome upbringing and had left a little girl behind in Bullfrog. Although that girl had betrayed him and his upbringing was full of the cruel taunts of classmates and prejudice against his family’s Sioux heritage.

A tapping on Kinch’s bunk had the big man rolling out of bed where he was relaxing and reading a letter from home for the tenth time. He opened the entrance to the tunnel. Newkirk watched the gruff man’s expression soften as he saw who it was. He reached down and gave Carter a hand as he slowly climbed the ladder one step at a time. Kinch grabbed his waist as he maneuvered out of the tunnel entrance and limped to his bunk with just a small word of thanks to Kinch.

Newkirk watched from behind the safety of a full house as Carter struggled to get his boots off and climb into his bunk. He looked like he was hurting more than usual. Newkirk hoped he hadn’t re-injured himself when he was knocked down during the football game. He usually helped his mate get ready for light’s out. Making sure he took one of Wilson’s custom pain pills if he needed it and helping him pull off his boots. But tonight he kept his concern to himself as he laid down his winning hand. His artful victory was followed by the loud groans of defeat from the other poker players. Newkirk, ever the good sport, was willing to play another round. It gave him a chance to watch Carter fall into a restless sleep. 

~~~HH~~~

Say everything you've always wanted  
Be not afraid of who you really are  
Cause in the end we have each other  
And that's at least one thing worth living for  
And I would give the world to you

~~~HH~~~

Newkirk had fallen asleep at the table his head resting on his solitaire game. Carter, dressed in his black out clothes, stood for a moment in the quiet barracks and watched him. He watched the man who loved him breath in and out. Carter had never had anyone fall in love with him before. He knew in his heart Mary Jane’s love wasn’t real. A nice North Dakota girl would never let a brave soldier boy of her acquaintance go off to war without someone to write to. To her Carter was just a way to have bragging rights with her friends.

Carter grabbed a blanket from his bunk and covered the exhausted man. He shook his head. “What am I goin’ to do with you, Peter,” he whispered.

Carter placed a hand on Newkirk’s head. He snuggled into his palm like Carter’s favorite horse back home. Carter smiled. He didn’t have a clue what to do when friendship turned to love. But he was taught that all love was good. He knew that the kind of love Newkirk had for him was dangerous. But somehow, it made it all the more precious. It was easy for him to love Newkirk. The man was comical and quick witted, yet strong and loyal. The best friend he ever had. Carter closed his eyes a moment and pictured himself being the source of Newkirk’s happiness. Enfolded in those arms and kept safe from the abuses of the world. 

He smiled and sighed. He decided that was the world he wanted. A world where Peter Newkirk loved Andrew Carter. A world where he would never be so terribly alone again. He wanted that world desperately.

Carter kissed the top of Newkirk’s head and backed away. He was already pushing his luck. He needed all the luck he could get because he had decided to go out tonight and blow the Adolf Hitler bridge himself. He carefully opened the door and made his way to the infirmary where he would use the tunnel under the stove to exit the camp. Carter knew it would be slow going with his weakened leg. It might take him all night to get to the bridge, blow it and return, but he was determined not to let his friends come to possible harm because of one of his outside the coloring line schemes. 

~~~HH~~~

Newkirk woke to the loudest thunderbolt he had ever heard. He looked around, cards sticking to his sleep deprived face, expecting to see the charred remains of a lightning struck bunk. He shook his head and peeled a king and a queen from his cheeks. Several of the guys were murmuring and cursing. Colonel Hogan’s door burst open. Hogan, barefooted, trying to buckle his belt looked around and spotted Newkirk.

“Peter! What the Hell was that noise? It sounded like a hundred rockets going off in a fireworks factory.”

Newkirk frowned and wiped his face with his hand. “Explosion.” He sprung to his feet sending cards flying across the room. The blanket around his shoulders fell to the floor. “Blimy! Explosion! The bridge, Gov’nor!”

Hogan tensed. “Where’s Carter?”

Newkirk’s eyes frantically searched the still dark room. Carter’s bunk was empty and Kinch was in his, guarding the tunnel entrance as always. He picked up the blanket still warm from his body, instinctively knowing who had been kind enough to cover him. 

“The daft Yank’s gone and blown up the bridge, Gov’nor. Must of went all on 'is lonesome.” 

Hogan sat on the edge of the table and placed a hand on Newkirk’s shoulder. Their eyes met. Hogan shook his head. “I’m sure he’s fine. I can almost hear the ‘Oh! Boy!’ from here. That must have been some show!”

“Colonel, I… I gotta go after ‘im. ‘e might be ‘urt. If ‘e got away alright, ‘is poor leg must be givin’ ‘im fits after all that walkin’. Let me go, Sir.” 

Hogan hesitated. “This is my fault. I should have let him come along on the mission. That way if he had stop to rest, at least he could have said he tried.”

“Naaa, Gov’nor. Carter never would 'ave stopped. No matter ‘ow much ‘e was ‘urtin’. You did the right thing. I’m the one who should 'ave looked after ‘im. If I made ‘im take ‘is pill, ‘e’d be sleepin’ now, safe in ‘is bunk.”

LeBeau called from his bunk, “No one is to blame. Carter was worried his invention wouldn’t work and someone would get hurt. You know how Carter gets once he settles on an idea. I’m sure he is fine. But… maybe we should go and make sure?”

Hogan started to pace. He looked out the window at the quiet camp. The huge explosion was being ignored by Klink and the guards in favor of warm beds and toasty toes. They had plenty of time until Klink got the inevitable call from Hochstetter for a head count.

“I don’t like it, but you can go, Newkirk. Make sure you’re back before roll call, even if you don’t find Carter.”

Kinch, LeBeau and the others started to protest Newkirk going alone. Hogan held up a hand. “If Carter’s alright, he’ll know the path to take home. He’ll just be slow, need a hand. Newkirk can handle that.”

Newkirk was already getting on his overcoat and gloves, nodding in agreement.

“Peter, I mean it. If you don’t find him, you have to come back right away. I can’t explain two missing men.”

Newkirk gave one cocky nod of his head. “I promise, Sir.” 

~~~HH~~~

Newkirk crouched behind a piece of rubble three times his size. His heart was pounding as he struggled to silence his panting breath. The scene before him was one of utter devastation. The formidable bridge, not only was impassable, it looked as if it never existed. If not for the scattered bits of wood, concrete and stone flung all over the countryside you would think the softly babbling river had never been crossed by man. Luckily, the few guards who were searching for the elaborate saboteur were on the north side of the river. They looked tired, discouraged and ready to give up. Newkirk knew that meant they hadn’t found Carter.

Newkirk knew that Carter planned to put his two catalyst bombs on the southside of the bridge. He had woven his way through the woods, softly calling for his love all the way from the camp. He had a gut feeling that Carter was hiding somewhere near his success. Newkirk felt again the now familiar clench at his heart. Carter wasn’t dead. He was convinced he would know. That meant he was here. Somewhere.

“Andrew,” he called softly. “Where are you, mate?”

He decided to follow the riverbank. If Carter was injured he would have looked for a safe haven. He followed the river till it took a small bend towards the south. He called again. “Andrew! Come on, mate. Stop muckin’ about!”

“Peter! Peter! Over here!”

Newkirk froze and listened to where the voice had come from. In the darkness he squinted and made out the shape of a large tree that had fallen years ago. He headed towards it as fast as he could without sounding like a platoon of marching soldiers in the cold, still night.

“Andrew?”

“Here, buddy. Here!”

Carter had partially hidden himself in the huge roots of the felled tree. Newkirk skidded on wet leaves and knelt beside his friend, not knowing what to do first. Carter smiled and opened his arms. Newkirk grabbed Carter up in his arms and held him tight. 

“Blimey, Andrew! You’re alright. Thank heaven you’re alright. You are alright, aren’t you?”

Carter patted Newkirk’s his back. “Yeah, I’m okay, pal. Just a little shell shocked from my bridge bomb. You shoulda seen it blow! Oh, boy, oh, boy! I’ve never heard anything so loud!”

Newkirk couldn’t help grinning, despite his concern. “Wish I 'ad been here, Andrew. You sure made sure your voice got 'eard this time. It woke me up!”

Carter winced. “Am I in trouble?”

Newkirk patted his black knit cap. “Not if I get you home in time for breakeys, mate. You sure you’re alright?”

Carter rubbed his head. “I’m kinda dizzy. And I got this loud ringing in my ears. And everything looks kinda hazy around the edges. I didn’t trust myself not to get lost in the woods. I was waiting till I felt better. I sure am glad you turned up.”

Newkirk sat next to him. “My pleasure, my brilliant bomber. I saw what’s left of the bridge. You’re a bloody menace. Glad you’re on our side.”

Carter chuckled and slid nearer to his friend. Newkirk put an arm around him and pulled him close. Carter sighed, closed his eyes and rested his head on Newkirk’s shoulder. Newkirk heart was undone by the subtle closeness. He took a chance and stroked Carter’s cheek. “Andrew, we can sit here a bit, but then we have to get goin’ back to camp.”

Andrew nodded. “Just… let me warm up a little. You sure are nice and warm.”

“Nearly ran all the way ‘ere. I was that worried about you.”

“Peter. I’ve been thinking about what you said. How you said you loved me.”

Newkirk stilled his stroking, thinking the worst. “I won’t bother you about it, Andrew. I can just be your buddy.”

“No, Peter. I think you’re really brave. I don’t know much about the… mechanics of it. But loving someone like… me. Well, that must be really hard for you. It’s a… privilege for me to know who you really are. I feel… honored to be loved by someone like you.”

“Andrew, love. You’re breaking my 'eart.”

“Nope. Not what I want to do at all. Ya see, I was thinkin’ when I was setting the bombs. Thinking that I might just get blown away with my clever creation. That would make some people pretty sad, I guess. But they would call me a hero and give my mom another pretty star for her window. That would be a life well spent.”

“Andrew. Please, I don’t want to talk about…”

“But then I thought. Gee Whiz, Peter loves me. We have a chance to have each other. That’s at least one thing worth living for.”

“Andrew?”

Carter smiled and sought out Newkirk’s shining blue eyes in the dark. “I love you too, Peter.”

Newkirk let his hand rest on Andrew’s chin and lifted it up. He placed a gentle kiss on his eager mouth. Carter obviously didn’t know how to kiss properly. Newkirk chuckled warmly and then took control. He searched for the honey sweetness he had sampled earlier and when he found it it drank like a man dying of thirst. Carter tried to follow, his hands seeking the warmth inside Newkirk’s overcoat, his mouth drowning with moans of love.

Newkirk finally broke the kiss to find himself flat on the freezing ground feeling warm and cozy with his love curled around him. “Cor. Blimey, Andrew. You’re a bloody spellbinder, you are. We 'ave to stop. We 'ave to get back.”

“Okey Dokey, ba-bee. I’ll need some help getting up.”

Newkirk shivered. “You’re gonna be the death of me. But what a way to go!”

~~~HH~~~

A million suns that shine upon me  
A million eyes you are the brightest blue  
Let’s tear the walls down that divide us  
And build a statue strong enough for two

~~~HH~~~

“... then KA-AAA-BOOOOOM!” Carter threw his hands in the air and wiggled his fingers imitating flying debris. ”Ping! Ping! THUD!”

Wilson put down his otoscope and grabbed Carter’s hands pinning them on the barracks table. “For pity’s sake, son. Keep still! Or I’ll poke a hole in your eardrum!”

Hogan chuckled and mussed Carter’s hair glad to see him smile. “Take it easy, Andrew. We get the idea. The blast almost knocked us all out of bed. Good work. Insanely good work. I guess I’ll forego having a talk with you about unnecessary risks and following orders. Now let Wilson check you out.”

Carter had the decency to look abashed for a moment before a smile brightened his face again. “Thanks, Colonel, Sir. Do your worst, Scotty.”

Hogan wandered over to Newkirk. “How was he when you found him?”

Newkirk had to stifle a grin. “Well, Gov’nor 'e was pretty out of it. But 'e seemed to perk up pretty quick.” Carter did struggle with his injuries on the way back to camp. He was hurting and dizzy. Newkirk had to practically carry him home and it didn’t help that Carter kept telling bad jokes and trying to kiss Newkirk every few feet making them both giggle like schoolgirls.

“I’m worried about brain damage. He seems awfully giddy, even for him.”

Newkirk bit his lip. “I’ve been with ‘im for a few 'ours now. He seems fine. Just glad to be alive.”

Hogan nodded at what he thought was sage reasoning. “Yeah, glad to be alive. He’s come too close lately. I’m thinking of sending him home.”

“What! No Colonel. I… we need him! Look what Andrew did tonight.”

“That’s just it, Peter. I’ve seen it before. Some men put themselves in danger, trying to get killed. Wanting to end all the suffering.”

Carter laughed loudly just then. A smirking LeBeau had whispered something in Carter’s ear that had him howling with laughter. “His ears are fine, Wilson.” LeBeau deadpanned.

“Gov’nor, I don’t think you need to worry.”

Hogan smiled. “I do tend to worry about you guys, don’t I? Well, promise me you’ll keep a close eye on him. Keep his spirits up.”

Newkirk tried to look sincere without breaking out in a knowing smile. “I promise.”

~~~HH~~~

“Andrew! You 'ave to calm down!” Newkirk pleaded for the tenth time. They were currently in Carter’s lab getting hot and bothered behind the remnants of several bomb casings. “You 'ave to learn to be discrete!”

“But I’ve never been in love before, Baby. I like it. I want more, more, more.” He punctuated each ‘more’ with a kiss.

“Shhhhh. Kinch will 'ear us.”

“I don’t care. Heck, I want Kinch to stand up with us at our wedding. I mean guys get married in London too, right?”

“Carter, this is serious. I can’t ever marry you. It’d be against the law.”

Carter froze and his bottom lip came out. His big blue eyes started to fill with tears.

“Oh, Bloody ‘ell. Now I did it.”

“Carter? What happened to my love? Or sweetheart? Or Brilliant Boy? What do you mean you can’t marry me? I thought that was why we were… you know… waiting. I thought we were Winkte’, Two Spirits. My Grandpa told me all about people who have two spirits within their soul. A male and a female. I guess that’s like us, baby. I figured I’d teach you some phrases in the Lakota language, have a ceremony. Promise you forever.”

Newkirk shook his head and smiled in amazement. “I love you so much, Andrew. Only you could see a man loving a man as a good thing. I… I just can’t see making love to you in this dank tunnel, or behind the latrine. You are more brilliant than a million suns. And your eyes are the brightest blue. You are that precious to me. I want our first time to be perfect. I 'ave so much to show you. And I won’t see your reputation be ‘urt by rumors or worse see you court martialed or shot by the Germans as a deviant.”

Carter rested his forehead on Newkirk’s chest and sighed. “I don’t understand how people can see our love as a bad thing. But, I guess I can wait. I don’t want to.”

Newkirk gave long strokes to Carter’s back trying to sooth him. “Listen, my love, I think I 'ave a plan. It’s a new year, ya know, and this bloody war ‘as to end sometime. I ‘eard Colonel ‘ogan talkin’ to Wilson about what will ‘appen when the war is over and the camps are liberated. The Colonel says first we’ll all be taken to a London ‘ospital and given the once over, you know, make sure we’re all good to go and document 'ow we were treated and all.”

Carter nodded his approval. “That’s good. Not all the camps have a Colonel Klink. The Kommendant at the last camp I was in was a real bad Nazi.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you ‘ad to go through that. We 'ave it pretty good ‘ere. The Colonel sees to that. Anyway, after we all check out we get our back pay. We’ll be rollin’ in it.”

Carter’s eyes widened, truly surprised. “Really? Wow. I never thought of that.”

“Not only that but the Colonel says most of us will be promoted and given commendations and medals and all that. You’ll probably be sent ‘ome a very rich Lieutenant after the war.”

Carter smiled. “Peter that’s great! But what about us? I don’t care about medals and money, I only care about you.”

Newkirk placed a kiss on his forehead. “Now listen, Andrew. I 'aven’t gotten to the best part. I want you, Colonel ‘ogan, Kinch and LeBeau to come to see London with me, meet me Sissy and Auntie. I’ll show you all around. Then we’ll go to Paris and ‘ang out with Louis a while. Imagine Paris after the liberation.”

“That sounds wonderful. I promised Louis he could show me Paris. Can… can we have… our first time in Paris?”

“You read my mind, love. I did promise you the world, Andrew. I plan to give it to ya as best I can.” 

Carter rubbed his face against Newkirk’s neck enjoying the warmth and tiny groans pulled from his future lover’s throat. Newkirk swallowed and tried to continue.

“Then I’ll go to North Dakota with you. You can teach me 'ow to ride buffaloes on the prairie.”

Carter laughed. “We don’t ride buffalo, you silly Brit. The Rez is pretty modern, my mom’s house is a typical American farmhouse with a picket fence and a garden gate. But some of us keep alive the old traditions. We could go before the elders of the tribe as Winkte’ and they would bless us. It would be like a wedding ceremony for us. There would be a big feast after. I would be so proud for you to meet my family and my tribe.”

Newkirk pulled Carter to him and wrapped him in his arms. “You are so amazing. I never thought I’d find love and acceptance anywhere in this whole wide world and ‘ere it is all wrapped up in one daft Yank.”

“You think you’ll stay with me, Peter? Stay forever?”

“I don’t know where we might end up, love. But I’ll stick with you like glue. I wish I could build a statue to you right in the middle of Trafalgar square, just to let the world know I love you.”

Carter looked up into Newkirk’s eyes and saw nothing but love and the mischievous twinkle he was coming to adore. “I’ll wait for you forever, Peter. Whatever you want to do is okay with me as long as we are always together.”

Their kiss this time was a promise for the future, full of hope for a world once more at peace.

~~~HH~~~

I pass it back to you  
And I will wait for you  
Cause I would give the world  
And I would give the world  
And I would give the world to you

~~~HH~~~

Epilogue

February brought the coldest temperatures the men at Stalag Thirteen had ever endured. The wind howled and snow piled up against the barrack’s rickety walls. The men huddled in their bunks dreaming of springtime back home.

Newkirk shivered in his bunk. A little heat from the stove made its way past his face on its way out through the cracks in the walls. He wondered how Carter was doing below him and hoped they would survive the winter. He tried to hear his true love’s soft snores over the cruel wind’s screaming. That particular sound always helped him to find sleep. He raised his head a bit and frowned. Then he heard his bunk squeak.

“Shhhhhhh, Peter Pan,” whispered Carter as he snuggled close. “It’s just a lost boy come home.”

Suddenly the whole war was warm.

~~~HH~~~

This is the new year  
A new beginning  
You made a promise  
You are the brightest  
We are the voices


End file.
